Double-Edged
by stormiscoming
Summary: "He is a fragile little thing, you see. Yet he flutters everywhere, like he doesn't know the slightest wind could destroy his wings, and that there is a spider web in the corner. But he does know, my lover. I almost think he is born just to infuriate me." / Kuroko learned that things weren't always as they seemed. Akakuro.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing.

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"It's more than that, the extent of my…" a man trailed off, for simply he lacked the word to describe exactly what he was feeling. He looked at home in the plush sofa he was sitting.

"Obsession?" another man offered. He leaned in a little bit, to show his interest at the matter.

"Perhaps," the man mused. "but perhaps not. Possessiveness, yes."

"Your possessiveness, then," his therapist agreed easily, urging the other to continue.

"My possessiveness, yes, Kuroko-sensei," the patient said, as if he was taking a sick satisfaction from repeating the word. "I want to swallow him whole. I want to crush him with my own bare hands." He murmured faintly, taken to another world that only he could see. His palms closed, the owner imagining a windpipe between his fingers. A blink of his eyes was the only sign that he was shaken out of his reverie. "And pick him apart, Sensei. Bit by bit. And I would eat him slowly, so slowly; surely then he would be safe and sound in my stomach."

The patient studied the man called Kuroko intently, looking for the sign that the other was uncomfortable with his words. But other than a nod, he found no other visible reaction from his therapist.

"And how does that make you feel, Akashi-san?"

Akashi sighed deliberately. "Good. It makes me feel good."

"Why do you want to do that to your boyfriend?"

"He needs my protection," Akashi threw a hand almost carelessly, but the other knew it was a calculating move in his part, too. "He is a fragile little thing, you see. Yet he flutters everywhere, like he doesn't know the slightest wind could destroy his wings, and that there is a spider web in the corner. But he does know, my lover. I almost think he is born just to infuriate me."

Kuroko made a humming noise back in his throat, one that wasn't too sympathetic, nor too judging. Carefully, however, he frowned, putting just a bit of an expression on his face. Akashi took the change of Kuroko's countenance greedily.

"Isn't your boyfriend only several months younger than you? Do you think he needs your protection?"

"Those spiders in the corner," here Akashi wiggled his fingers under his chin, mimicking little hairy legs. "they are waiting to snag what's mine, when I don't look. I can't always look. Do you see now, Sensei, why I want to swallow him whole? He'd be with me all the time. Safe. It'd be great if he comes in bite-sized. Then I could savor him, little by little."

"Does your boyfriend know about your feelings?"

"That I would like to eat him? I said that to him, every day. But then I always eat him, in the only way we both could enjoy. I think I made him misunderstood."

Kuroko was dying to take notes, but he knew that if he did, it would disrupt the flow they had. It was not like he could pick up his pen, his hands were too shaky. He hid it cautiously by twining them above his knees.

"So he does not know."

"Oh, I'm sure he knows, now." Akashi smiled wickedly. He caressed the armrest under his palm, eyeing his therapist lazily—the other man did not succeed in hiding his tremor as well as he thought. "Good for him. Then he can be prepared, if I snap. But I will not let him run away."

The timer suddenly beeped twice.

"I believe our time is up, Akashi-san,"

Akashi nodded, standing up. When the other mirrored him, his dark gaze swept on the stretched figure of his therapist. It did not go unnoticed. The redhead smiled—that was his intention. "Next week, same time, same place?"

The question weighed heavily. The man was giving Kuroko chance to back off, he knew. If he said no, this _arrangement_ would be over.

Kuroko swallowed, aware of a pair of eyes almost drunkenly followed the movement of his Adam's apple, "Of course, Akashi-san, that would be my pleasure."

Akashi took the hand his therapist offered. "Pleasure is all mine, Sensei."

"Let me escort you to the door," said Kuroko, eager to get rid of _this _man.

"Thank you."

The walk to the door was tense. Akashi took a great pleasure in being helped by the shorter man to get into his coat.

"Good day, Kuroko-sensei."

"Good day, Akashi-san."

Akashi offered one last predatory smile, before the door closed. Only then Kuroko freely took a deep, shaky breath, like it was his first intake of air after a long while. He bit his lips, staring at the door, before schooling back his expression.

Any minute now.

Two knocks resounded from the other side of the door. Kuroko opened it without hesitation.

"Seijurou-kun."

"Tetsuya," Akashi said in affection. He closed the door behind him before kissing his boyfriend on his temple.

"How was your therapy?" asked Kuroko as he helped Akashi out of his coat.

"Enlightening, as usual."

Akashi hung his coat. He turned to face his lover, eyes searching Kuroko for any crack. In turn, the other steeled himself. If he as much as flinched, he knew the _arrangement_ would be over. A month ago Akashi confessed that he was in need of a psychologist, yet he could not bring himself to trust anyone. Kuroko had offered himself.

The redhead had agreed, but he had made Kuroko promise not to bring the matter into their personal life, nor let it affect the way Kuroko acted towards him.

Now Kuroko knew why his lover did that.

It took its toll on him, this arrangement. Akashi's words today were nothing but a warning. But Kuroko could not bring himself to stop—he needed to know more. He began to understand Akashi's behavior towards him more and more after each session.

It was unhealthy, and yet. And yet.

(It wasn't like Akashi would let him go. I find myself pleased to see my lover covered in red, Akashi purred, two sessions ago.)

Kuroko smiled. "I'm glad."

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Feedback is very much appreciated. :))


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing.

* * *

"Aren't you going to help me in stopping my… obsession?"

Kuroko watched as Akashi frowned. "You don't like the word."

"No," the redhead admitted. "The extent of my… fixation with him is more than just an obsession. Obsession—that's a child play. Like a boy with a loupe, burning every ant that he sees."

"You said it was possessiveness, the last time."

"Well, I am only human," said Akashi dismissively. "I am changeable. But tell me, Kuroko-sensei, are you planning to stop my-?" Akashi made a gesture in the air to indicate the word he failed to find.

Kuroko leaned back on his armchair, making himself comfortable. Akashi was distracted today. It was easier to observe him when he didn't observe you in return. "The point of my therapy is to help you knowing yourself. Do you feel like you understand yourself more?"

"I do," agreed Akashi, looking somewhere far away. "It surprises me that I'm feeling so… _much_ towards my lover."

"Speaking it out loud makes it more real."

"Yes," and out of sudden Akashi turned his head towards his therapist, eyes piercing. A smirk played in one corner of his lips. "Do you have a lover, Kuroko-sensei?"

This was where it got tricky. If Akashi were other patients, Kuroko would have answered it without much thought. But the redhead always had something up his sleeves. Most of the times Kuroko didn't want to know what it was.

"Yes." Kuroko answered warily.

"Tell me, does he treat you right?"

Tricky, tricky. Should Akashi get an answer that he wanted, or an honest one? Which answer will save him from being swallowed whole?

"He... ruins me."

Akashi smiled, like that was the answer he expected all along. "In a good way, I hope."

"What do you think?"

"I think," Akashi began, refusing to play the game, "that it is unfair that Sensei knows so much about me yet I don't know much about him."

Liar, liar. Kuroko could tell Akashi's smile when he was being an utter dictator.

"I believe that my private life does not concern you."

"You believe a lot of things, Sensei," derisively Akashi opined. "I just want to know whether your lover wants to devour you, like I do."

_Like I do_. A deliberate slip, to make the floor more slithery for Kuroko to tread on. Careful now, careful now, Kuroko chanted to himself. Should he respond as Kuroko-sensei the therapist or Tetsuya the unknowing lover?

"I-" Suddenly Akashi put his elbows on his knees, twined his fingers over his mouth, leaning forward. Kuroko pressed backwards to put more space between them, sparse as it was, because suddenly he felt unsafe in this skin. "I don't quite know," Kuroko lied. The sound of his own heartbeat was like thunder in his ears. "But-" quickly he amended, for he could see the telltale of dissatisfaction on his patient's countenance. "I have an inkling."

"An inkling," Akashi repeated slowly. "What are you going to do about it, Sensei?"

"I-"

"Are you going to run away?"

"I'm no coward," Kuroko bit back. Akashi seemed gleeful at Kuroko's apparent irritation.

"It's not like you can run away, right, Sensei?"

That sounded like a challenge. Kuroko knew he should have backed off from the first warning. "Yes," he said blankly. "I can."

"Hmm. That calls for a good session of spanking, if I were to be in your lover's shoes," Akashi's expression morphed into something predatory, calculating. "Although I think he'd rather break your legs. Then you have to cling to him to get you anywhere. He'd like that, I suppose."

Kuroko would've said, _thanks God you're not my lover_, but then he'd be a liar.

"I am the therapist, and you are the patient, Akashi-san. We can't spend your salary here talking about me."

"Sure," Akashi conceded easily. He looked content now, almost dreamy.

The timer beeped. The redhead always had impeccable timing, it was practically his talent, among other things.

"I believe the session is over, Sensei," said Akashi cheerfully. It almost sounded like, _I win_.

Kuroko nodded tightly, and escorted his patient to the door.

* * *

Three knocks. Kuroko had been waiting for it.

"Seijurou-kun," he greeted as he opened the door.

Akashi smiled. He pulled Kuroko into a kiss that was more appropriate to be done in the confines of a bedroom. Kuroko gave as good as he got, and he felt Akashi chuckled against his lips, before the redhead bit his left cheek once, and pulled back.

"I'm home."

"How was your therapy?"

"It was good."

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Thank you so much for all the reviews in the previous chapter! More feedback is appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing.

* * *

"I'm ruining him. He doesn't seem to mind."

It was not a careless move, Kuroko noted inwardly, that Akashi used the same word the shorter man did in the last session, when he was asked to describe how his lover treated him. Kuroko had answered, _"He ruins me."_

Akashi was laying a bait. Kuroko knew enough about his patient, now, more than ever, that he recognized a trap when he saw one.

"Have you ever thought that perhaps it is the other way around?" asked Kuroko.

There was this particular brand of smile that Akashi reserved only for their sessions. It appeared again, now, full-force. Kuroko fought not to shiver at the sight of it. "That is an interesting idea," the redhead wondered aloud. "Perhaps my lover is indeed ruining me. It does feel like it, the way he is chipping in here," Akashi's hand moved to rest above his heart. His fingers closed in his palm, marring his perfectly-ironed shirt. "He will be the death of me, I'm sure. And do you know what's more, Sensei?"

"Yes, Akashi-san?"

"_I will let him_," murmured Akashi. There were stars in his eyes, a revelation. "He will be the death of me, Sensei, and I will let him be just that. He can kill me. He can rip my heart out. It's his anyways. I have no use for it anymore."

"So you are ruining each other."

"It just goes to show that we are truly made for each other."

Kuroko wanted to disagree, but. _But_.

"Akashi-san, you are aware that ruining will lead to destruction. I think you just love your lover so much, that it hurts. It isn't destruction, what you feel."

"You haven't seen the way he acts, Sensei. How he talks, how he smiles. It _is_ a destruction. He's turning me into a bad man. He's a sin, wrapped in pale skin and pretty mouth. I want to do evil things just by looking at him."

Kuroko hummed, discerning the words. "Evil things, such as swallowing him whole."

"Among other things, yes." Akashi sighed. "Devouring him. I feel like I am almost at my limit."

"Why do you say that?"

"I bit my lover last night, until he bled. Yes- right there, Sensei," pointed Akashi, and Kuroko startled—he had been rubbing the base of his throat absently. The skin there was swollen—Kuroko had been caressing it all day, to lessen the irritation. "I bit him right on the spot you are touching right now, Sensei, where I had felt his pulse the strongest last night. He cried out, Sensei, and that was the most beautiful sound I've ever heard."

Kuroko felt himself blush to the tips of his ears, however detached he was trying to make himself. Akashi tilted his head, like a panther drawing back before pouncing on his prey.

"He came, Sensei. Explosively. _Untouched_."

In his mind Kuroko counted to ten. His hickey throbbed, a reminder. When he thought he had control of his voice, he remarked, "He learns to like the pain. From you."

To anyone else, his tone would have sounded flat, but to people who had known Kuroko for a long time, they would notice the accusation.

And Akashi did, for he chortled, in triumph, almost. "So easily you found me out, Sensei. I was hoping that later on I could bite some of his flesh off and he wouldn't notice."

"Akashi-san, that almost sounds like you want to dine on him."

"I do not want to chop him and make him into a barbeque, if that's what you meant," the redhead drawled. "No. I just want to possess him in every way possible. I want to envelop him completely with my body until he is crushed, absorbed in my skin. Then I can always feel him, smell him, have him. Do you understand, Sensei?"

Kuroko's note fell to the ground. He picked it up. Dichromatic eyes followed his movement avariciously. It was rare lately for Kuroko to feel safe.

The timer beeped.

If Kuroko wasn't sitting down, he would've collapsed with relieve.

"The time is up, Akashi-san."

* * *

Kuroko wanted to lock the door once Akashi was out, but he knew he couldn't. He used the little time that he had to make the notes he wasn't able to create throughout the therapy. It was critical that he did it now, without Akashi to distract him, and mind still fresh.

Two knocks.

"Tetsuya?" Akashi's voice called out.

"In a minute," Kuroko answered. He put down the last word, closed his note, and put it in the cabinet where ten identical looking things resided. Then he made his way quickly to the entryway.

"Tetsuya," greeted Akashi when he saw Kuroko. He opened his arms, and willingly Kuroko stepped into it.

"Welcome home. How was the therapy?"

Akashi smiled, picture perfect. "It was great."

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Thanks a lot for the great reviews AAAAAA I'M SO HAPPy anyways, yes, this story is always going to be marked completed, because each chapter can stand alone; and I have no idea when I'm going to be able to update. Though I've been productive lately as it seems.

Questions and feedback are welcome :))


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you so much for your support! I'm sorry it takes so long. Somebody asked for how they acted outside of the consulting room, and I delivered.

Kuroko no Basuke is not mine. I do not make any profit from this.

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They had been down the countryside all day. The Akashis had owned an old farm which stretched acres and acres, a wide expanse of green fields and yellow hays and tall, haunted barns. They had cows and sheep and horses and pigs. The pigs were mostly for slaughter. The cows were for milking, and the sheep was for their fur. The horses were domesticated; their stables open for public who wanted to take riding lessons. By the stables there was a track for the beginners. There was a trail all over the farm, leading into the forest right behind it, which was welcomed for whomever already adept in horseback riding. Akashi visited the place once a month. He took Kuroko there a long time ago, but even though Kuroko certainly loved brushing the horses, he didn't take to riding like Akashi did.

Today Akashi took Kuroko down to the stables again. He forced the other to take riding lessons from the man who taught Akashi when he was little. Kuroko managed a trot on his own by his sheer stubbornness and desire to please Akashi—and mostly because he wanted to go home. Only after he did a circle around the track Akashi was satisfied. They were finished right by twilight.

Now the insides of his thighs were red—the horse he rode, Ryoma, was too wide for him to sit comfortably—and his hip ached like he had just fallen and twisted something in his side. It didn't hurt this much when he was actually riding the horse, but now when he was getting ready for bed, all exhaustion just suddenly hit his bones, not unlike a tower of sand teetering on falling for a long time finally crumbled because the slightest wind knocked.

Kuroko staggered to bed. Akashi was waiting with his nose deep in a book, like he always did. After Kuroko slipped under the covers Akashi put his book aside and kissed him.

"You did very well today," he said. His left hand was caressing Kuroko's stomach over the blanket. When he reached Kuroko's thighs the other moaned in discomfort.

"I'm actually aching all over, Seijuro-kun," confessed Kuroko. "I will appreciate it very much if Seijuro-kun keeps his hands to himself, because if he continues I fear I won't be able to walk for a week."

That was the wrong thing to say, since Akashi's eyes lit up with the idea. Suddenly Kuroko understood why Akashi was adamant in him taking the horseback riding lesson.

"I can give you a massage," offered Akashi.

Kuroko's eyebrows lifted subtly. "A massage," he repeated.

"Why so suspicious, Tetsuya, I'm hurt," said Akashi. Kuroko had all the rights to be suspicious. Especially after he knew the full extent of what Akashi would like to do him.

("If only I could skin him, little by little, so that I could see him truly bare," said Akashi several sessions ago.

"That sounds like it would hurt, Akashi-san," Kuroko pointed out calmly, as if the other hadn't just confessed he'd like to take his skin off his flesh.

"My lover gets under my skin, while I don't get to his. He always seems unflappable. A mystery box, locked from inside, and there is no key. I feel like the only way to get him closer to me is to take things into their literal meanings.")

Even though Kuroko hadn't exactly accepted the offer, the redhead had already rummaged their bedside table for a bottle of oil. Akashi kept olive oil there for his dry skin in winter.

But there were two bottles in Akashi's hand. Kuroko couldn't recognize the smaller bottle.

"It's eucalyptus oil," Akashi answered Kuroko's questioning gaze. "You will find it very agreeable on your sore spots, Tetsuya."

Kuroko didn't believe the other man for an ounce. "Seijuro-kun, I'm really hurting all over."

"Does it hurt more than that time I tied you to the bed post for three days?"

Face flaming with the memory, Kuroko shook his head. That was from Before—before their game of psychiatrist and patient started. Kuroko didn't feel safe so helpless under Akashi's mercy anymore, and it felt like Akashi didn't trust himself either to try something like that again.

(Because he'd lose control and do something Kuroko wouldn't have liked.)

Lately, the line between Akashi-san the patient and Seijuro-kun the lover had blurred, like jagged edges forcing to fit each other.

Or maybe Kuroko should try harder to compartmentalize. That was what Akashi asked him to, because he wanted nothing to change between them even after Kuroko _knew. _Maybe Kuroko was imagining things.

Kuroko should have known from the start—even without his psychology degree—that their arrangement was a bad idea.

"No, but…"

"Don't worry your pretty little head, eucalyptus oil isn't a fancy lubricant as you're terrified of," Akashi laughed. "Turn over for me, darling."

That Akashi said as he was tugging down the covers. Kuroko took the aforementioned oil and opened the cap. It smelled spicy. His nose felt clear after he sniffed it.

Akashi only smiled indulgently at Kuroko's act of blatant mistrust. Running out of reasons to refuse, Kuroko turned to lie on his stomach. Akashi's palm was a hot brand on the back of his right thigh, and it felt good against his strained muscles.

"You should take your clothes off, Tetsuya."

"Mmm," answered Kuroko. Akashi had started massaging his lower back under his shirt. His hands were slick with oil. The eucalyptus oil burned on his skin, but it was a good burn. In any second Kuroko was going to melt to a puddle of goo and drip onto the mattress; that was how good it was. After several minutes Akashi suddenly stopped.

"Clothes off," he tutted. He tugged on Kuroko's boxers. "Lift your hips up for me."

That took some effort to do. Kuroko voiced his protest in a groan as he did what Akashi asked him to do. The boxers only got as low as his knees, before Kuroko buckled and crumbled to the mattress.

"Your thighs look very sore indeed," Akashi noted absently. His hands landed on the back of Kuroko's thighs, pressing slowly. His tone contained some odd cadence Kuroko should recognize as a warning, but he was already too far gone under Akashi's ministration. "You'll probably find it bruised by tomorrow morning, Tetsuya."

The hands continued roaming low, testing each dip and knot. At one point a finger slipped between the cleft of Kuroko's ass, too deliberate to be incidental. Kuroko's head lolled to his shoulder. There was a warm puff of breath on his nape- and then out of the blue Akashi squeezed with a brutality—and none of the cruel innocence—one might expect from a child who found delights on strangling the life out of his pet. Kuroko arched off the bed from the unexpected pain: his aching flesh pulsed like the tired beats of an old train, an open war wound. Akashi's grip didn't lessen until Kuroko reached back and touched his wrist.

"Seijuro-kun," Kuroko pled. There were unshed tears in his eyes. "Gently, please."

Akashi blinked. "I'm sorry," he said, but he didn't sound sorry at all. "But you'll heal faster this way, Tetsuya."

Kuroko heard a grain of truth in the sentence, but he knew the real reason behind Akashi's act.

Akashi was pushing at the boundaries.

("I'd like to pick him apart. Break him. Then I would lick his wounds, one by one. Taste his blood on my tongue. I don't know how to make his life fully mine, Sensei, and that seems to be the only way to do that.")

He was trying to confuse Kuroko between Akashi the patient and Seijuro the lover. He'd push and push and catch Kuroko off-guard and Kuroko was afraid that before he knew he wouldn't be able to tell them apart. He'd accept Akashi the patient and things he wanted to do to him and perhaps one day he'd come to crave that violence Akashi offered. The dam was already cracking in places, and soon it would break and Kuroko would be swept under the torrent. Kuroko could see himself drowning in the waves and- and _loving_ every second of it. That was what Kuroko feared most: loving what he shouldn't have loved. Their relationship was a sin from the start, but it was too late to stop, now. Akashi wouldn't let him- _stop, _anyway.

Akashi had dealt his cards. He would play, and he would come out a victor. Kuroko wasn't sure he could beat a man who always won his wars.

* * *

Criticism, feedback, suggestions are always welcomed. Don't be shy asking for what you want to see from their dynamics. I truly had fun writing this.


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